


Drunk Enough

by deviant900



Series: RK1K Human AU [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Awkward Flirting, M/M, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-27 19:53:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15692274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deviant900/pseuds/deviant900
Summary: “Things ending between you and North put you in an awful mood, probably the worst I’ve seen you in. It’s been weeks, but you’re still upset about it. We just think you need a good distraction, something to help you get over her and everything that’s happened this past month. And, I mean, I’m not into guys, but Connor looks like a good distraction to me.”





	Drunk Enough

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to write something for rk1k as well. it's such a nice ship! and what was originally meant to be a shorter fic turned into something that's barely under 8k words. oops. 
> 
> i also wrote this while avoiding turning north into some kind of villain. i adore her, but, uh, not her relationship w/ markus.  
> @ david cage: yikes, dude.
> 
> song of the day: [drunk enough to say that i love you - plvtinum](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3L01nwZl48Q)

Just shy over a month since he and North had split up, and Markus couldn’t believe that he was still pining after her. Well, _pining_ wasn’t exactly the right word. He missed her. Felt her absence completely. She had come back that morning to get the last of her belongings from his place, looking pleased with how amicable their break up had been, and Markus found himself envious of how quickly she had moved on. He knew it was stupid to be angry about it, but he couldn’t help it.

He’d been in far deeper, invested more in them than she had, apparently. His disappointment showed.

Showed enough that Simon and Josh had finally bitten the bullet and dragged his sorry ass to a bar to get shit-faced with them. And for all intents, it was definitely working. The last of his beer slid down smooth, a bitter tang clinging to his tongue, while Simon and Josh talked about whatever soccer game was playing on one of the many televisions in the bar. Dim lighting gave the screens an extra bright glare, and he could see the same game broadcasting across the room behind them.

Markus took a moment to enjoy just being out of his own head, focusing on the low rumble of conversations around them. Josh caught him staring, eyes flitting from the television to him. He grinned and jabbed Simon with his elbow.

“Uh, oh. I think Markus has had one drink too many,” he teased. “Do we need to help you to the bathroom, or can you make it on your own?”

“I’m fine,” Markus said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Three beers wasn’t enough to slur his speech, but it definitely gave him a nice buzz behind his eyes. “I was just thinking about how glad I am to have come out tonight.”

Josh responded with a smile, then tipped back his own drink and polished it off. “You’ve been cooping yourself up and moping about for way too long. Say it with me, okay? It’s _over_.” If Josh noticed him wincing, he said nothing about it. “Take a deep breath, enjoy the freedom. You can start over with someone else, if you really want to.”

“Or, you could just hook up. Speaking from personal experience, it’s easier and helps with break ups,” Simon added. Once Josh’s empty bottle hit the table, he grabbed all three. “Another round of drinks, gentlemen? The night is still young.”

Marks reached out and wrapped his fingers around Simon’s wrist to stop him from leaving. “Uh-uh! You guys have already bought my drinks for tonight. It’s my turn to treat you.”

“But tonight is supposed to be about you, Markus”—

“Sure, sure. Let’s say that it still is.” He held a hand up to Josh when he started to argue. “Let me buy you guys just _one_ round. Consider it a, um, a ‘thank you’ for what you guys have done for me today. It’s two drinks.” Simon and Josh exchanged looks, but ultimately agreed, and Markus made his way through the crowd with empty bottles in hand.

Saturday night meant the bar was nearly packed, with people there either to drown their sorrows just like Markus, or to watch the same game Josh and Simon had been entranced with earlier. Markus had to work his way through the crowd to actually reach the bar, and he set the bottles down as one of the bartenders rushed by him to deliver cold, full drinks to a patron. There were two of them there, hard at work. Quick hands mixed drinks, and quicker wit kept up with half a dozen conversations.

If their tip jar was anything to go by, they both seemed to be doing very well.

While waiting for his turn to be served, Markus’s eye latched onto the male bartender as he side-stepped his coworker to reach a clean glass and throw booze and ice in together. He was wearing black glasses that framed a sharp face and brown eyes. His hair, just as dark as his eyes, was slicked back, a few errant curls falling over his forehead. He smiled broadly, crookedly, the right side hiked up just higher than the left.

His face was bright when he smiled. And when he managed to make eye contact with Markus, the smile just got wider.

“I’ll be with you in a moment!” he called over the sounds of the telvesion and the crowd around them. Someone must have scored. Markus didn’t care.

The bartender finished his pour and then rushed to the other side of the bar to deliver it.

Markus, definitely still buzzed, watched him, looked over him. He wore a tight-fitting black shirt with the bar’s name, EDEN, printed across his chest in white, with a halo of pink around the letters. The navy jeans hugged his legs so well that Markus allowed his eyes to wonder down over his hips and at the curve of his ass.

Markus took ahold of himself after a moment. Was he really checking out a complete stranger right now? Just hours before, he’d been depressed over his ex leaving him. Now, he was staring at another man’s ass.

The guilty thoughts running through his mind were immediately silenced as the bartender materialized in front of him, eyes bright and still smiling. Was it stupid of Markus to find his lopsided smile cute? Maybe.

“Sorry about the wait. What can I get for you?” he asked, wiping down the counter with a wet rag. Markus pulled his elbows up so he would be out of the way.

“O-oh, um, just three beers. The one in the green bottle,” he said, embarrassed about how tongue-tied he suddenly was.

The bartender fetched them from a cooler beneath the counter and popped the caps off in quick succession. Markus probably shouldn’t have been as impressed by the maneuver as he was, but it was definitely a neat trick. Then he realized he was staring and hadn’t paid yet. He hoped he wasn’t being creepy, sliding his card across the counter. The bartender said nothing as he rang up the three drinks.

Markus took his card back, unaware of the wide, staring eyes on him until he had made it to their table. Josh and Simon’s brows were raised high. Markus opened his mouth, voice stopping when they leaned closer, and he managed a very innocent-sounding, “What?”

“Simon, are my eyes deceiving me, or did our sad little Markus just check out the bartender?” Josh took one of the beers after Markus set them on the table and took a sip, leaning back with a triumphant smirk. Simon didn’t even acknowledge his drink. He nodded in response to Josh’s remark.

“Wait, was it the girl? I couldn’t tell from this angle.”

Simon glanced over to the bar where the two had managed to catch a break in the wave of people. They were talking, and the group could hear them laughing from where they sat. The male bartender ducked his head beneath the counter so that only the tip of his shaking shoulders were visible, and he appeared again to wipe tears from his cheeks.

“I wasn’t checking anyone out,” Markus interjected. His defense was too strong, because it only made Josh and Simon share a look between them that said they knew he was lying. Markus put his head in his hands and sighed. “Okay, fine. The guy _is_ kind of attractive. Really attractive, actually. But he’s working, and I don’t want to be that drunk customer weirdo that he tells his girlfriend about, or something.”

Simon looked over his shoulder at the bar, watching them pouring more beers from their tap. The man had gotten over his laughing fit and was smiling his goofy, crooked smile at another patron. Simon looked to Markus, a plan on his mind, before jumping to his feet. Markus reached out to stop him, but Josh intervened before he could so much as touch Simon’s sleeve.

They both watched as Simon slid up to the bar and caught the attention of the woman with long blonde hair that fell over her shoulder. He watched until she looked over at them, making eye contact, and suddenly, he didn’t want to know what was happening. He focused on the television across the room as best he could and hoped Simon wasn’t saying anything that could completely humiliate any of them.

Markus had always found soccer to be an uninteresting sport. In the moment, though, he discovered that he could learn to love it.

Simon wasn’t gone for long. Josh grinned from ear to ear when he returned. Markus’s stomach rolled with nerves at the pleased look on his face as he sat down and finally reached for his beer.

“What did you do, Simon?”

“Just gathering intel.” Simon nodded back towards the bar. “Chloe was more than willing to tell me what she could while he was distracted. His name is Connor, and he’s totally single, by the way.”

Markus groaned and tipped his beer back. Maybe he could get drunk enough to completely forget tonight ever happened.

“Hey, hey, easy on the booze! No one wants to sleep with a drunkard, you know,” Josh warned. Markus nearly choked.

“I’m not actually trying to do anything,” he argued, pointedly doing whatever he could to avoid looking at the bar. “I’m starting to think you’re both out to kill me.”

“I’m actually trying to _help_ _you_ , Markus.” Josh glanced at the bar, then back to Markus, and shrugged. “Things ending between you and North put you in an awful mood, probably the worst I’ve seen you in. It’s been weeks, but you’re still upset about it. And, that’s fine, I’m not saying you can’t be disappointed, but Simon and I hate seeing you miserable.”

As if to drive his point home, he leaned over and gave Markus’s shoulder a gentle punch. “We just think you need a good distraction, something to help you get over her and everything that’s happened this past month. And, I mean, I’m not into guys, but Connor looks like a good distraction to me.”

Markus rubbed at his eyes and let Josh’s words sink in. Maybe… No, Josh was _definitely_ right. He was trying to hold on to something long dead.

“Fuck it,” he said, startling both Josh and Simon. He grabbed his beer and tipped it back, downing what was left in the bottle. “You’re right. Both of you are right. I need to get over being dumped and move on. But”— He paused, pointing at both of them with his bottle still in hand. “—I don’t need my friends to ask someone out for me. I can do that myself.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know,” Simon said. “But you weren’t taking the initiative before.”

“Well, I’m taking it now.”

Markus left his empty bottle with them as he stood confidently from the table and made his way across the room towards the bar. His confidence wavered with each step, but he couldn’t back down now. He couldn’t duck out, even with the thought of rejection or becoming someone’s cringe-worthy story making his stomach churn. He tuned out the worry, the premeditated response building in his head if he was turned down, and leaned his elbows on the bar to watch Connor work.

He was fascinating to watch. He poured beers from the tap smoothly, quick flicks of his wrist as he stirred and shook drinks, moving shots across the bar with ease and a finesse that had Markus captivated. He watched Connor press a mint leaf into a drink, slip a black straw into the glass, and hand it off with a bright smile to another customer. His smile reached his eyes, shining behind the lenses of his glasses. Everything about him demanded Markus’s attention.

He didn’t realize just how hypnotized he was until he heard a throat clear in front of him, and Markus whipped his head around to face Chloe, the blonde bartender, with a smile in her face. She laughed when he realized she had caught him staring.

“Don’t be embarrassed, you’re not the first,” she said, and leaned on the counter to watch Connor mix the next order. “I’m guessing you’re Simon’s friend, right? The one wanting to know if Connor was single?”

“I’m going to kill him,” Markus mumbled, but it was loud enough for Chloe to laugh at. “Yeah, I’m, um, I’m sorry about that. My friends don’t exactly know how to be… subtle.”

“He was nice about it. Connor’s pretty popular, and it helps that he’s _really_ good at what he does.” Chloe smirked as a customer slipped money into their tip jar, catching Connor’s attention with it. Markus couldn’t hear the flirting from where he was, but Connor’s smile immediately became strained. He wondered what they said, and Chloe snorted.

“Oh, no.” She stood back up and smiled to Markus. “If you really want to get his attention, try asking him to surprise you, but make it a whiskey drink. He really likes whiskey.”

Chloe stepped away before Markus could ask her to clarify, and she gently tapped Connor on the shoulder as he was ringing someone up. His eyes just glanced over Markus as he turned towards her. She said something to him, pointing over her shoulder at Markus (their eyes met again, briefly), and then he blinked and looked at her in a panic. She trotted away, and Connor whirled on her.

“We still have people at the bar, Chloe! You can’t take a break _now_!” he called. Chloe kept walking, pretending she couldn’t hear him. Connor’s shoulders heaved with a sigh.

Connor didn’t linger on the fact that she left him alone with several people waiting to have their orders taken. He sighed, flashed a smile, and carried on as though he hadn’t been abandoned by his coworker. He was definitely rushing, but his movements were still as smooth as before, although he didn’t seem to engage the other customers as much. Markus watched him fill out three orders in nearly as many minutes, wipe down the counter as they left, and turn to him, out of breath.

“I am so sorry for the wait,” he started, an excuse for Chloe’s disappearance already at the tip of his tongue. Markus smiled back and held a hand up before he could get it up.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m not in any rush. I liked watching you work, anyways.” The words fell from his lips a lot smoother than he had been expecting them to. There was still a stiffness to them, unfamiliar in his mouth. He hadn’t flirted with a stranger in years, but he could feel himself slipping back into the routine of it. It helped that Connor seemed to be leaning in, eyes focused solely on him.

Connor smiled at that, hooked high at the right corner. There was something endearing about the crookedness of it, and Chloe’s advice almost slipped his mind. He stammered as he came back to himself. Connor huffed out a laugh. So much for getting back into practice.

“Oh, I, um,” Markus mumbled. He needed to stop getting distracted. “I hadn’t really thought about my order. I don’t know, surprise me. But, make it whiskey.”

Connor rubbed his hands together. “No pressure. Let’s see…”

Markus watched him pull out several items from around the counter: a bowl of sugar cubes, brown instead of white, a muddler, and a brand new glass. Connor dropped the cube in, soaking it in bitters, and swirled it around before taking the muddler and crushing it into the bottom of the glass.

“So, who am I making this for?” he asked, glancing up from his work.

“Markus.” Connor placed the muddler on the counter and dropped a few clear ice cubes into the glass. Markus decided to play along, and took one of the empty stools in front of Connor. “And who is making my drink?”

“I’m Connor.”

Connor plucked one of the oranges from a nearby bowl of fruit. There were white spots on it from where the rind had been peeled off, probably as garnish. Markus watched him pick up a peeler and take a section of the rind off with it. He set it over the glass and gave it a hard twist before swiping it along the rim of the glass. It soon joined the mixture he had just crushed together.

“I don’t think I’ve had this drink before,” Markus eventually said as Connor poured the whiskey in, giving it an extra dash on top. “I’ve never really been a whiskey person.”

“‘Not a whiskey person’? Impossible.” Connor began stirring the drink, and he looked up at Markus from from beneath his glasses. “You’ll like this. I’ve converted countless sorority girls to whiskey with this drink.”

Connor stopped stirring and tapped the spoon against the edge of the glass. “Of course, I usually dilute it with soda water or ginger beer. It’s sacrilege, I know. But it’s become really popular with the local Greek population.” Connor winked as he set the glass up on the bar.

It was a beautiful cocktail, a rich amber in color, with a layer of the crushed sugar lying beneath the ice. Connor watched Markus pick up the glass, swirling the drink around, as if he was waiting for a reaction to the taste. Markus met his eyes and kept the contact as he drank it. With the extra splash of whiskey, he had expected the taste of booze to be overwhelming, but while the bite was there, the flavors of the citrus and bitters evened it out. It ran smooth down his throat, and Markus had to admit, it was a damn good drink.

His approval must have been clear on his face, because Connor’s grin only got wider. “Well?”

“Do you really need to ask?” Markus took another sip. “Shit, this is really good. I might have to start drinking whiskey more.”

Connor’s laugh was like music, and Markus watched him turn to another customer as he cleaned his workspace. He fully expected Connor to move on and leave him alone, dashing his (albeit, very minor) attempts at flirting, but once the other person’s beer had been uncapped and handed off, he gravitated right back to Markus and began cleaning glasses. Markus smiled into hs glass as he took another sip.

Fuck, it was good.

And so was the man who made it. He and Connor had struck up light conversation, about themselves and their plans for the night. Markus had been extra careful in making sure his words didn’t slur when he mentioned his plan of taking someone home. Connor bit his bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, and breaking eye contact for a moment to adjust his workspace. He didn’t move away or end their conversation. If it wasn’t for the alcohol, Markus would have sworn he saw Connor move closer.

Fuck it, he decided, and downed the rest of his drink.

“So, what time do you get off?” he asked. Connor froze. He looked at Markus like he couldn’t believe what he’d been asked.

The incredulous look dissolved into an awkward, almost sympathetic, smile. “Maybe I should have held back on the whiskey. Markus, I think you’re drunk.”

“I’m not _that_ drunk.” Markus leaned his elbows against the countertop, eyes drifting from Connor’s face to the long, nimble fingers wrapped around a semi-clean glass. “But, I am drunk enough that rejection won’t bruise my ego. At least, not too much.”

That got a laugh out of Connor, who set the glass down and gave Markus a long, good look, like he was trying to figure him out. Maybe he was. Markus kept what he hoped was a confident expression on his face, and not faltering after Connor’s hesitant answer. If Connor told him no, Markus was content to order another beer and return to his friends, who were definitely watching him from across the room.

The reminder that his friends were behind him made him hope even more that Connor wouldn’t turn him down.

Which, if the look on Connor’s face was any indication, was exactly where it was headed. “Markus, you’re drunk. I can call you a cab to take you home, but”—

“I’m not completely shitfaced,” Markus said, getting defensive. “If you want me to fuck off, tell me to fuck off, and I’ll stop bothering you.” He held a hand up before Connor could interrupt him. “But, you can’t blame me for at least trying, can you?”

The first thing Markus was expecting was for Connor to take one of the drink nozzles and spray him in the face with it, using it to fend off any more unwanted advances. That, or a boot to the ass to send him out the door. Instead, Connor’s eyes dropped from his to Markus’s mouth, and back again. Another tense moment, and Connor laughed.

“You’re positive you’re not just blindingly drunk?”

“No, thankfully. Would hate for the alcohol to blur that face."

Connor unsuccessfully bit back a smile. He did manage to smother it some. “My coworker is going to be late, so I should get off around 1:30. You’d be waiting around for another hour.”

“Good thing patience is one of my best qualities.” Markus winked. “As long as I don’t run you off before your shift ends.”

Connor took the empty glass in front of him and replaced it with one filled with water. The sharp tilt if his head said that Markus had no choice in whether or not he was drinking it. He accepted it with a gentle brush of his fingers against Connor’s. A dark red blush bloomed at his cheeks, reaching all the way to his ears, and burned crimson.

Markus turned on the stool and moved to walk back over to his friends to let them know where he would be going, and that they wouldn’t have to wait up on him, but a quick scan of the room showed that they had either left or made themselves extremely scarce. Maybe they had gotten the hint and left Markus to his own devices. It certainly made his night easier, and he eased back into the stool in time to watch Connor mix another drink together.

The next hour passed quicker than Markus had expected it to. He didn’t even feel the time pass by as he watched Connor mingle and work, and always, always, finding his way back to Markus. He cleaned dishes, rearranged ingredients and utensils, and found things to keep himself busy on that side of the counter, just to talk. They held conversations effortlessly, and Markus wondered how they hadn’t met sooner.

Excitement rushed through him when he saw a blue-haired woman show up, apologies pouring from her as she took up a glass from Connor’s hand. He laughed, brushing her excuses aside, and fiddled with his cell phone before throwing a look over his glasses at Markus. Markus downed the rest of his water and paid out his tab.

The buzz behind his eyes was gone. For once, on a night out, he was glad it was.

 

* * *

 

The moment Connor had closed the door to his apartment, Markus had him pinned against it, lips against his, bodies slotted together as he ground against Connor. The rhythm of everything came back to him, of how to move with another, and Connor’s arms wrapped around him, a hand at his neck to hold him in place as they kissed. Markus took Connor’s bottom lip between his teeth before slipping his tongue between his lips. That earned him a low, appreciative noise.

Markus ran his fingers through Connor’s hair, nails scratching at his scalp. The locks were soft between his fingers, and he did it again and again. Connor rolled his hips, and Markus groaned at the back of his throat. Connor tightened his hold on Markus, and he thought about how long it had been since he’d done this.

The ache in his chest became to much, both of them out of breath when they pulled away. Connor instantly latched onto Markus’s neck to kiss and suck bruises into his skin. Markus didn’t waste a thought on whether or not they would be visible over his shirt collar the next day. Connor’s mouth felt so good on him, a pleasant buzz lingering on his skin where Connor touched him.

Connor lifted his head to kiss Markus again, the tip of his tongue just brushing Markus’s lips, and then began pushing him backwards down the hallway. Markus’s hands found Connor’s hips, pulling him along as he let Connor lead him to his bedroom. Once inside, he pulled Connor’s mouth to his again, relishing the way Connor’s tongue slid and tangled with his.

Connor’s hands pressed against Markus’s chest. He gave Markus a sly wink before shoving him hard, sending him down onto the bed. Markus bounced as he hit the mattress behind him. A laugh broke from him as Connor crawled up above him, kissing him, and then leaned back on his heels. He was straddling Markus, hair disheveled and lips wet. He felt up Markus’s chest to the buttons on his shirt, undoing each one as his hands traveled upwards. His fingers worked quickly, each button slipping out with ease.

Markus’s eyes were glued to Connor’s, watching the focus in them as more of his skin was revealed. He liked the way they lingered, liked the sharp breath that came from him as the last button fell away.

Connor pushed his shirt aside to reveal Markus’s body. He spent time admiring it, running his hands over the dips and curves, paying special attention to Markus’s adbomen. He dragged his nails down Markus’s chest and followed the trail with his mouth and tongue. Wet kisses and hot licks peppered his body. Markus cursed, felt himself responding, and he ground up against Connor.

Markus took him by his neck and pulled him back up into a kiss, tongue and resonant moans in Connor’s mouth. Connor took him by the wrist and pulled his hand behind him, a silent encouragement as he placed it against his ass. Markus took a handful and squeezed hard, causing Connor to pull away from his mouth to groan. Markus did it again, and guided his hips as they moved together.

Markus’s teeth and lips found the lobe of Connor’s ear, teasing it and nipping gently as Connor helped him remove his shirt. Markus slipped his fingers beneath Connor’s shirt, touching smooth skin and lean muscles, before yanking it up over Connor’s shoulders and tossing it to the floor. He kissed Connor again as his hands found their way back to his ass.

The heat, the pressure between his hips, all of it was becoming too much. Markus felt for the buckle of Connor’s belt, undoing it, and pulled it through the loops to throw it where the rest of their clothes ended up. Connor whined while Markus slid his zipper down and popped the button on his jeans. He wasted no time in slipping his hand inside to massage Connor’s cock with his palm. Connor choked on a moan. His hands squeezed Markus’s shoulders as Markus groped him, biting gently at his neck.

Connor cursed above him, breath hissing between his teeth, and Markus felt the sting of Connor’s nails digging into his skin. He pulled his hand away. Connor whimpered, obviously disappointed by the disappearance of the pressure on him, but it was short-lived as Markus grabbed him by the hips and flipped them. Connor yelped when his back hit the bed, laughing into Markus’s kiss.

“Tell me what you want,” he finally said, and broke the silence between him. He found Connor’s ear again and sucked it between his teeth.

The body beneath him shuddered, and Markus sucked a purple hickey into Connor’s check while he waited for an answer. Connor’s voice was rough, a gravelly rasp against Markus’s skin. “Whatever you want.” Connor hissed as teeth dug into the fresh mark. “ _Fuck_ , Markus. I take that back, your mouth. I want your mouth.”

Well, he certainly couldn’t deny Connor that. Markus hooked his fingers into the waistband of Connor’s jeans and pulled them down with a harsh tug. Connor pulled his feet free from his shoes as Markus reached his ankles, and then yanked his off his socks. Markus wrapped his arms around his thighs and Connor found himself being dragged across the bed towards the edge. He sat up on his elbows and laughed as Markus dropped to his knees, a mischievous look in his eyes.

“I think I could get used to being manhandled,” he said, and Markus smirked before leaning forward and taking the head of Connor’s cock into his mouth. He tongued it through the fabric of his bright red briefs. Connor moaned, heat striking through him the second Markus’s mouth touched him, and his hips jerked forward as Markus sucked. The fabric was wet from his touch earlier, and he could taste the bitter precum leaking into it.

Markus took his time, outlining the shape with his tongue and tracing the curve of the head. Connor groaned, biting his lip as he watched Markus tease him. Slowly, Markus’s fingers moved up his thighs and wrapped around the waistband. He locked eyes with Connor as he pulled, easing it over his thighs and down his legs, and he leaned back to rake his eyes over Connor’s body, now completely uncovered. Lean and toned, gorgeous in his own skin, with his cock lying heavy against his stomach and chest heaving.

Connor almost asked Markus if he was enjoying the view when he reached out, hands on his legs, and a wet heat enveloped him.

Connor’s moan broke off halfway, hips jerking and thrusting into Markus’s mouth. His hands went to Markus’s head, gripping his neck, an unspoken plea. Markus fought his gag reflex as he pulled off to breathe. Connor apologized, his grip relaxing, but Markus placed his hand back where it was.

In an attempt to regain some of his dignity, he silenced Connor by grasping his shiat and dragging his tongue up the underside, teasing the skin just beneath the head, and wrapped his lips back around it. He lowered his head and took it in, inch by inch, letting his eyes drift upwards to look at Connor’s face. Connor’s head had fallen back, although Markus could see his mouth hanging open. He did get a good view of his Adam’s apple moving as he swallowed, and a moan had his hips jutting upwards again. The head bumped against the back of his throat.

The noises out of Connor’s mouth were bliss, quiet moans and whines whenever Markus sucked or squeezed where he was stroking him. He could hear his name amongst the moans, a chant of _Markus, fuck,_ fuck. He grinned to himself, as best he could around the dick in his mouth, and pulled off with a loud, sloppy pop. There was a line of drool running down his chin. He wiped it away as Connor pulled his head back up to see why he had stopped.

While Markus hadn’t been paying attention, Connor had removed his glasses. He could see his eyes clearly without the lenses and frames to get in the way.

Markus stroked him, twisting his wrist over the head. He watched Connor’s mouth fall back open in a sigh when he did. He placed an open mouthed kiss to the side of the shaft, keeping Connor’s eyes as he did, and felt the cock in his hand twitch.

“You’ve got lube, right?” he asked. Connor smiled at that, eyes cloudy with pleasure. Markus took the head back into his mouth, tongue against the slit.

“Y-yeah, fuck,” Connor groaned, rolling his hips into Marku’s fist and mouth. “Nightstand, top drawer. There’s condoms in there, too.”

Markus gave him one last lick before moving away to the nightstand. He opened the top drawer, finding exactly what Connor had said. As he fetched the items, he pushed his own pants and underwear down and off.

Behind him, Connor moved away from the edge of the bed and taken one of the pillows from the head of it to prop his hips up. Markus joined him on the bed, tossing the condom and bottle aside to pull him into another wet kiss. He couldn’t get enough of feeling Connor’s lips against his, Connor’s tongue in his mouth, Connor’s hands roaming across his chest.

Connor’s mouth drifted down Markus chest. He wrapped his lips around his nipple, teasing it with his tongue and sucking it to a peak. Markus groaned, struggling to open the bottle of lube. He managed to pop the cap, dribbling some of it over his fingers, before pushing Connor onto his back.

Markus’s mouth went dry at the sight of Connor’s thighs spread far, eyes begging him to do something as he watched Markus wet his fingers again. He kept Connor’s eyes, making sure he was watching him, and pushed his first finger inside. He felt Connor clench around him, his hips lifting in response, and Connor’s eyes fell shut. Markus moved his finger in and out, his eyes on Connor’s face, watching for any sign of pain of discomfort. The only response was a roll of Connor’s hips, and Markus couldn’t help but make his own pleased murmur at the sight.

Markus, carefully and gently, fingered him open, pausing to pour more lube onto his hands and add more fingers. He twisted his wrist, enjoying the sounds of Connor moaning, and a particular thrust of his fingers had Connor’s hips lifting from the pillow. The gasp that followed sounded forced, like he’d had the wind knocked out of him, and Connor wrenched the bedsheets in his hands. Markus repeated the movement just to watch Connor squirm on his fingers.

Another breathy whine escaped when Markus removed his fingers. He laughed as he tore into the condom wrapper. Connor moved up, taking lube in hand and slathering it over Markus’s cock once the condom had been rolled on. He kissed him again as he did.

Connor’s hand working him sparked heat in his blood, building low in his gut. He ran his fingers through Connor’s hair and murmured against his mouth, biting his lip again and giving it a gentle tug, “Just like this, want you on your back.” Connor made a noise low in his throat, and once Markus was properly wet, he leaned back and let Markus handle him again. He took Connor’s thighs and pulled him up. The head of his dick brushed Connor’s hole.

Markus paused. Hips rolled towards him, and Markus pushed through.

Connor threw his head back, mouth open in a heavy moan as the head breached inside him. Markus thrusted shallowly, slowly, moving himself inside and watching for signs of discomfort or pain. Connor clenched around him, almost as if he was pulling him in, and Markus reached down to stroke Connor’s cock as his hips pressed against Connor’s ass. Both of them groaned. Markus took a moment to adjust his weight, hissing as Connor’s tight heat closed around him again.

“Oh, shit,” he gasped. “Still good?”

Connor nodded, although he didn’t pick his head back up. He ground his hips against him instead. Markus tightened his grip on Connor’s thighs.

He tried to keep the pace slow at first; it had been awhile, he wanted to enjoy it, and he didn’t want to hurt Connor with his eagerness. The stream of moans, curses, and encouragement pouring from Connor’s mouth had his hips jerking, grip tightening more to hold control of Connor. He drank in the sight of Connor in front of him, back arched and legs spread where Markus was holding his thighs apart. That dark red blush Markus had appreciated earlier reached all the way down to his chest.

Around his head, Connor’s hair splayed out on the bedsheets. He had finally opened his eyes, watching his movements, and Markus broke his rhythm to thrust slow and deep. Connor’s knuckles turned white as he fisted the sheets above his head.

Connor’s cock slapped against his stomach while Markus fucked him, wet and red at the tip, with precum streaming down his skin. Markus’s teeth dug into his lip, already missing the feeling of Connor’s mouth on his. He stopped, shifting his weight, and he started again with harder, quicker thrusts. Connor moaned, voice hitching.

“Oh, fuck, Markus. Like that, yes, there, _there_!”

Connor reached down to close his fingers around his own cock, stroking it and trying to match Markus’s pace. He arched into his own touch, Markus groaning, appreciating the sight. He could feel Connor getting close, his warm, wet hole clenching around him. Connor moaned, back rising from the bed, and a deep thrust from Markus had Connor spilling over his hand, Markus’s name in his mouth as he did. He stroked himself through the waves of pleasure, and Markus matched the movements of his hips with Connor’s hand.

Markus could feel his own release creeping closer. He bent forward and sunk his teeth into Connor’s neck, relishing the hiss and groan he earned. Markus lost his rhythm and pumped into him erratically, chasing the pressure building in him. Connor exhaled small moans. He sounded overstimulated, legs twitching at Markus’s sides, but his arms wrapped around Markus’s shoulders and his fingernails scratched against his skin.

The pressure there finally, _finally_ burst with a hard, deep thrust. He pressed himself down against Connor, face in his neck, and he rode it out until he caught back up with his body, trying to catch his breath. They laid like that, Connor holding him, rubbing circles between Markus’s shoulders with his thumb, until he finally pulled his face away from Connor’s neck.

Markus was met with Connor’s endearingly goofy smile, sweat dripping from both of them. Connor’s hair was plastered to his temples. Markus was sure he looked similarly disheveled, and he gave in to the urge to kiss Connor. There was no burning need behind it this time, just a lazy melding of lips and tongues.

After a few moments, he pulled out. Connor hissed his discomfort, and Markus pulled the condom off. He tied it, looking for somewhere to throw it away. Connor sat up but remained on the bed, still trying to catch his breath.

“Bathroom?” Markus asked over his shoulder.

“Hallway, second door on the left.”

Connor brushed his sweat-soaked hair away from his face, and Markus made his way to the bathroom to toss the condom in the trash. While in there, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked thoroughly fucked, and like he had finally dropped a heavy burden from his shoulders. Relaxed. He looked very relaxed.

Markus found a cloth hanging from the towel rack by the shower and ran it under the tap. The cold was a shock on his skin as he cleaned himself, but it did the trick. He wet it again and returned to the bedroom. Connor had gotten to his feet while Markus was gone, rifling through his dresser for something to wear. He smiled again when Markus offered him the rag.

“A good lay and a gentleman? How did I manage to get so lucky?”

Markus chuckled and set to finding his clothes. He could barely distinguish his clothes from Connor’s in the dark, but managed to find his own jeans and underwear where he had shed them. He managed to get his underwear back on and one foot in his pants when Connor spoke behind him.

“Running off so soon? You can stay the night, if you want.” Markus turned. Connor had found a pair of boxers to wear, a dark navy color that was striking against his skin. He looked… Was he nervous? “It’ll be a challenge finding a way home this late.”

A convincing argument, combined with the glaring red **3:04** from the alarm clock on the other side of the bed. He looked at the time, realization making his exhaustion apparent and the bed he was sitting on far more alluring than the cold night. There was no telling how long he would have to wait for a cab or paid driver to show up.

Markus gave in. He let his jeans fall back to the floor. Anything after that, he didn’t remember, as sleep began to overtake him.

 

* * *

 

Markus woke up before Connor to the sound of his phone vibrating on the floor below him. He groaned, shifting beneath the blankets that had been unceremoniously pulled off his shoulders sometime during the night, and reached blindly for his phone. He patted the floor for his jeans until he found them, the phone poking out of his back pocket.

It had gone silent when he pulled it out, but just as he had accepted that he missed the call, the screen lit up yet again. The name JOSH glared brightly across the screen. He answered it before the second ring.

“What?” he asked, voice rough from sleep.

Markus lowered his voice as he remembered the person in bed with him. He turned to see if Connor was still asleep. He had his back to Markus, body completely covered in sheets, save for the back of his head and neck. So that’s where the blankets had gone.

“God, I thought you were never gonna answer,” Josh said, his voice harsh on the other end. “It’s almost one o’clock, man. Where are you? We’ve been waiting for hours.”

“Waiting? For what?” Markus sat up. Connor moved beside him, but he didn’t seem to be awake.

“For… We’re supposed to help Simon move into his new place today, remember?” Josh huffed. “I know we all went drinking last night, but, damn, how many did you knock back after we left?” Markus could hear laughter in the background.

Markus closed his eyes and ran a hand down his face, the memory of the promise coming back to him. “Shit. I totally forgot. Have you guys already started?”

“A little bit. Lucy decided that we’d leave all the heavy lifting to you, since you ignored three of my calls,” Josh teased. Markus laughed. Definitely sounded like Lucy. “We left before midnight last night. Didn’t think you’d be out so late.”

“Yeah. I got caught up.”

“Where are you?”

“Where? Um.” Markus voice fell to a whisper. Josh hollered, laughing, and Markus nearly hung up as he felt Connor stir again.

“Holy shit, Markus, are you still at _his place_? He let you sleep over?”

“Quit screaming in my ear! And, yeah, I am.” Markus looked over at the digital alarm clock. **12:57**. He really did sleep in. “I should be able to get there in twenty minutes, give or take.”

“Better hurry up, then! I’ll eat your share of the pizza if you’re not here by two.”

Markus didn’t respond and hung up. He looked back at Connor to see if his phone conversation had woken him up. In his stirring, Connor had flipped over to his other side, face turned against the pillow and towards Markus. He looked peaceful, features smooth and relaxed, brow twitching in his sleep. Markus couldn’t tear his eyes away, until the promise he made came back to him.

He moved through Connor’s apartment carefully and as quietly as he could, pausing when a floorboard creaked beneath his weight. Once he located his shirt, he slipped it on and out of the bedroom.

Two bright eyes stared at him from the couch. He paused, watching the shepard’s head tilt to the side at his appearance. It looked him over, silky black legs crossed and hanging over the edge. He stepped closer, slowly, hoping it wouldn’t attack or bark at him. Where had it been the night before? And how had it gotten his shoes?

He bent down to pick up his shoes, and the tension melted from his shoulders when its tail began wagging. Markus pulled them on, and then reached a hand out. Its nose was cold against his palm. It sniffed him before the wagging intensified, and turned its head against his hand when he reached over and pet it. Not a guard dog, then.

Markus stood back up and did his best to ignore the dog now following him towards the door. The refrigerator caught his eye as he was leaving. It was speckled haphazardly with bright blue sticky notes, reminders Connor had made for himself. Some of them were phone numbers with businesses written across the top. One of them was in all caps, underlined twice, reading _CALL DAD_ , and one just beneath it was a grocery list.

Beside the fridge was a stack of the notes and a sharpie lying on top.

Markus paused at the door.

 

* * *

 

Connor heard the door close and opened his eyes. It was better than waking up completely alone, he decided, flipping on his back and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He stretched, and the ghosts of their activities came back to him in a rush. He could still feel everything from the night before, even down into his lower back. It was a refreshing kind of pain, one he didn’t mind as he reached for his glasses and put them on.

Bishop was staring at the door when he walked in. She turned her head when he came down the hallway and trotted over to greet him. Her paws dug into his shoulders as she jumped up and pressed her nose into his neck. He ruffled her ears before pushing her off with a laugh.

“Morning to you, too,” he greeted. His voice was rough from sleep. Bishop barked, tongue hanging out of the side of her mouth. “Are we hungry? Let’s get breakfast.”

Connor made his way to the kitchen with his dog at his heels. He poured food and fresh water into her bowls, laughing as she scarfed down her food and pushed her bowl around on the floor. He pulled a carton of eggs from the fridge, stopping when he noticed an addition to his reminders when the door closed. A new note, one written in someone else’s handwriting. He plucked it from the door.

 

 _Markus Manfred_  
A phone number just beneath it.  
_Call me!_

 

Connor brushed his thumb along the note’s corner, something settling in the center of his chest. He couldn’t identify it, and pressed the note back to the fridge door. It didn’t fade while he cooked. The urge to call Markus persisted in the back of his mind, but he suppressed it. Markus was busy, had his hands full helping his friend out.

He sat on the couch with his food, Bishop’s head finding its place on his lap as he turned on the news. No doubt, she was expecting a bite when Connor had had his fill. He held his plate just out of reach of her puppy eyes and scratched her behind the ears. “Tomorrow, maybe,” he decided, and her tail thumped against the cushions.


End file.
